Writing a letter of complaint an old piece

Writing a Letter of Complaint ©

By

Michael Casey

Yes, I know how to castrate with my pen. I will be polite 2 or 3 times and give a company a chance to sort out their mistake, then I press the nuclear button. It works, trust me it works. You may have to persevere but in the end it works. I’ve written 2 this morning already. Ok, I just pointed out people’s mistakes and told them what they should have done and how they can make it up to me.

Obviously as this is a talk I’m giving to you I am also using my artistic license, if you have something you should always use it. So here in these paragraphs I’ll give you the straight and boring version and then I’ll digress. First thing use email and keep every email you send, open a folder to keep your emails in. My pot of Shamrock did not arrive so you email Paddy’s genuine Shamrock company in Albania, it was cheap that’s why you bought it from them but it did not arrive.

Then when they ask you to spell your name C A S E Y  you write everything down as if they were 4 year olds. Assume they are bored students on plant food, sorry legal highs. Yes it does sound condescending, but if you have paid 2.99 for superb shamrock from Albania, the home of Mother Theresa, then you are entitled for it to come on time. By the way my sister has met two saints, JPII and Mother Theresa. Me I’ve only met 1000s upon thousands of sinners.

I digressed then, when you are complaining you must never digress, it just confuses them. You must must be like a pit bull with a burglar’s balls in his mouth. So AFTER the 2 or 3 Polite emails you turn into Jack Nicholson in that film where he has the axe, I know the name but as homework I want you all to find out, especially you Boris. Drinking 7 bottles of vodka in a week is not allowed, especially as it was Holy Water my sister had brought back from a holy place for me.

So after the polite messages you find the mail address of the CEO and you talk to him alone. Google email addresses of CEOs and Bob is your uncle, enjoy. Dear Sir your Cretinous staff based in some cheap non unionized country, NeverNeverLand or wherever it is have failed to send me my splendid shamrock priced 2.99. You must always write FORMAL COMPLAINT in the subject box, because the shareholders may know nothing but they do count FORMAL COMPLAINTS. Then you normally get action, as CEOs will testify.

Sadly sometimes the staff are not only on plant food but have not even been trained so they don’t check the complaints folder. Or am I being naive or is it cynical? The quality of the training shows in the quality of the answers you get. Once a CEO is involved you usually get action and fast, that’s if he can trust his underlings. Yes there are female CEOs too, but saying underlings is not a nice word use with female CEOs, it’s like rice and chips, they don’t mix, ok Boris I know you will eat anything and wash it down with my Holy Water.

If anything does go wrong after the CEO is involved you have saved all the emails as evidence, and you can quote things back to them. I worked in a computer room since 1978  so saving things is second nature to me. So there you have it, 3 strikes and the normal staff are out, and if they are on the plant food, sorry legal highs they are never in to start with. So after 3 tries you annoy the CEO. And then you will get action, even if you have to act like that pit bull.

Yes there is a club, We had Michael Casey email us, a bottle of Holy Water is hidden in the bottom drawer of a few CEOs. I will say though one company was fantastic and I still use them and would willingly recommend them. I have them in pectore so that’s enough praise for them, they don’t want a swelled head like Boris after all the Vodka or was in Holy Water?

Oh, before I forget I also email “famous” people in the vain hope that one of them has a sense of humour and then with the 7 degrees of separation I may get noticed and have Kenny Everette’s spot on the radio. All I have so far is a spot on my, on my, well that’s why I’m sitting side saddle today as I talk to you. So I hope you have all enjoyed today’s talk. I use a variety of styles as the Muse takes me, all in an attempt to amuse myself and my readers. And if you don’t like what you hear you could try sending me chocolate which I’ll accept in lieu of a formal complaint.

Still Hurting

Back in 2008 or was it 2009 I first hurt my back bigtime now day 2 of a flareup.
But at least it gives me time to talk to God as the pain prevents me from sleeping at all.
Curses count as prayers, remember God created Us because he was lonely.
Discuss.
So here's a piece to make you laugh as I continue to squirm.

NOV 2008 says my computer so that's 9years ago

Crawling Like a Worm in The Dirt, humbled by a photo copier.  (c)

by

Michael Casey

 This is one piece from my www.positivethoughts.com essay/blog postings, I type fast so excuse any mistakes.

 Well this is my 100th post, I had hoped I could think up something nice or even spectacular. This is what I've come up with. I'm laughing now as I type. Yesterday 5minutes after I started work I bent down to fill up the copiers. I filled one, then another, then I did a third. I then screamed, I had straightened up too fast and had ricked/strained my back on the right hand side. So these past 27hours have been a lesson in pain and humility. I felt such a fool at work, the girls I work were both sympathetic and funny. Somebody came by for some coloured paper , I bent down to look under our shelf and I was racked with pain, one girl told me to crawl away out of the way so that she could find it instead. I hobbled away, out of the way. The rest of day I moved about like an 80 year old, rather like my own dad. I hoped that on my lunch break while I sat for 30mins in the cathedral my back would be restored. We stand all day in our print as some of you may remember me mention. Prayer and rest for 30mins no doubt aided my soul but not my back. I went back to work and hobbled about for a couple of hours. Then I decided I really had to go home and rest.

Getting home I got off the bus and had to walk only 300yards, a crippled Charlie Chaplin kind of walk, though I look more like Oliver Hardy. I was home 2 hours earlier than normal so the family were surprised.

I told them I was fired as a joke. Then I sat down on an old chair and then I could hardly move. Standing up again was an impossiblity. Last Friday we had a drama with my youngest, this Friday,Friday13th it was my turn. My girls all laughed at me,just as I would laugh at them if the tables were reversed. Night came and knew I could never climb the stairs to bed, but at least our bathroom was downstairs. So I tumbled onto our sofa and got ready to spend the night there. Only we have a glass coffee table in front of it and I was afraid of falling off onto it. So at 1am I staggered up the stairs like a drunk with locked joints, then I rolled onto my bed, screaming as I did so. I did sleep, but in the morning I had to slither out like a snake sliding out of bed on my belly. Some positions were possible and some were not. My wife laughed till she cried my youngsters did too, as for me, I laughed and cursed and laughed again. My wife went to see the pharmacy man for advice and a spray for me. The pharmacist laughed too, he's an old friend. When she got back I was all sprayed up, the old spray and the newly bought one drenching me and my room with the stench of a bad back. I slithered in and out of bed, crawling around as I couldn't stand up straight. As for getting down stairs that would be an impossiblity. My wife went shopping, stopping first to steal my debit card, laughing she left me in my bed of pain. When she returned she gave me yoguart and orange juice. Later I just had to go downstairs, but I couldn't walk. I slithered off bed like snake, then made it to my hands and knees, then an inspired idea. I bounced down the stairs one step at a time, on my butt , one step at a time. Then I crawled across our living room and pulled myself up onto a chair. I did notice that we needed a new carpet after 20years our carpet does need replacing. I then rewarded myself by stealing my wife's pork she'd just made.

Later after some movements like belly dancer of 120 years old, I managed to straighten up. I do walk as if I have a full diaper though. I made it too my big chair in front of my computer. And that’ s how I got to write this 100th post.

The moral of all this? Well I am a very bad patient. Health is the most important thing in our lives. I rejoice that my girls have a good sense of humour, even if I am the butt of it all. Last year when I had food poisoning they had plenty to laugh about then. And I do laugh at that memory. We are all worms crawling in the dirt. It is God's love that lifts us up, as does our family life. Sometimes it is only though pain and adversity that we learn such truths, sometimes we learn mundane things, but they too have meaning for us, even if its just the fact that we need a new living room carpet.

Guess what?

My bad bad returned, so i'm in agony, can barely walk. i haven't had an episode in a while, just all the other stuff, a merry go round of pain.

so here's something from 6 years ago while i reach for the pain killer...

A Child’s’ Eye View ©

By

Michael Casey

My small daughter had made a  dangly thing, I don’t know how to describe it really. It’s a piece of coloured plastic which has holes in. Well that much is straightforward, then there are flowers and coloured wires hanging from it. A kind of bad hair day made from plastic. In effect its like those doorways which have strips of material  handing down to separate one room from another. There must be a word for it but I’d know it, but I’m  sure somebody will tell me. In films its chip shops and barbers who have these “doors”, I hope you get the picture.

Now that I’ve confused things, let me continue with the tale; though I should add that I have good news to share, I’ve rediscovered Don Camillo again. So I’m expecting a delivery of a Don Camillo omnibus in the post. With such a good feeling I decided to please my small daughter an d find somewhere to display her “art”. WE did think of hanging it in our living room/ kitchen  area, I was about to find a chair to stand on and tie the “art”   to an old curtain rail, but we were overruled by the Voice of Reason which is otherwise know as The Shanghai Mum. If you don’t know Shanghai mums are very strict and don’t appreciate “art”, so me and my daughter were banished from the living room.

We retreated upstairs and we scoured the girls’ room for a location for the modern “art”, in the end we decided if we tied a piece of string to the art we could then hang it up underneath a picture that was on their wall. So we found a ball of string and cut it to the right length, and then attached it to our plastic thingy or watsit, and I was given the task of attaching it to the string that was holding up the painting.

Unfortunately the picture fell off the wall, and even when I found a hammer, all I did was make a mess and the picture fell off the wall again.

So I had failed, Andrew Graham-Dixon would have been moved to tears, so we retreated to my room and hung in on my wall. The plastic “art” was forgotten, the hammer was put away. All that is left are the marks on the wall where the picture had hung for many a year. But at least the girls have a new location where they can put a poster, all they need is gluetac, which is far easier than hammer and nails.